


Mistakes Enumerated/Erased

by MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), POV Third Person Limited, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pregnancy, Rose Quartz-Centric, Steven Universe (Cartoon) Spoilers, Steven Universe Future Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz
Summary: Humans are fascinating in that they are meant to change. Gems cannot. Their programming is irreversible and resolute.A Rose Quartz character study. Contains spoilers through Steven Universe Future S01E04: Volleyball.
Relationships: Amethyst & Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Garnet & Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Pearl & Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Rose Quartz/Greg Universe
Comments: 29
Kudos: 82





	Mistakes Enumerated/Erased

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, adding that "one-sided Pearl/RQ" tag hurt. To be clear, I think Rose did love her, but didn't allow herself to act on her feelings.
> 
> I've got a lot of feeling about Rose so here I am, posting a Rose-centric fic in what is perhaps the most controversial period of time to do so. She's an extremely flawed, complicated character, which is why she's one of my favorites. 
> 
> The spoilers for the Volleyball episode aren't stated explicitly, but if you've seen it, you'll know what it's referring to.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Rose Quartz has never loved anyone more than she has loved Greg Universe.

It almost hurts to admit. She loves Pearl, of course — and that, perhaps, is a fault; for Pearl adores her to the point of exaltation. But Pearl’s feelings for Rose are solely because she was programmed to adore her Diamond, and therefore Rose can never allow herself to reciprocate; the one thing she cannot allow her. That is a conversation she and Pearl will never have, because Rose is a coward.

But Rose is a hypocrite, because she adores Greg in much the same way.

“My Greg,” she murmurs between kisses, enjoying very much how Greg could never know the true connotation of that phrase. How beautiful, to promise oneself so wholly to another, not out of duty or propriety, but because one  _ wanted  _ to.

“My Rose,” Greg tries once, and Rose freezes.

No one has called her theirs in centuries. Pearl stopped once the rebellion began in true force, because it could ask some people to connect the dots — even in private, Rose had felt it was too risky, and it would reinforce a mindset Rose wanted to eradicate. (Not that she’d been successful at that.)

Rose had called Pearl “my Pearl” countless times; at first, it had made Pearl intensely uncomfortable, but over the years it had turned into a point of pride. She’d always meant it, every time. Rose had not used such a term of endearment with any of the men she’d dated — not before Greg. And even then, she hadn’t meant it any less.

But Greg whispering those words makes Rose remember every member of her court. She remembers the way Pearl had said those words shortly after assuming her new identity. She remembers every Jade, every Pebble, every  _ Pearl _ —

_ I shouldn’t have been standing so close, my Diamond — _

Greg’s hands curl around hers, begging her back to the present. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, voice softer than she could ever deserve.

“Of course,” she murmurs, a lie they both recognize.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Greg says. “Would you rather I not say that?”

She nods. It ends there.

Greg never pushes her for anything. Never asks her for details. Never questions the horrible, horrific past she hides from everyone.

She doesn’t deserve it. She deserves someone who demands explanation, who demands her to prostrate herself and accept judgment for all of the people she’s ever hurt. Someone who sees right through her and refuses to accept her.

But Rose Quartz is a coward in love, and Greg is a soft blanket; he is her shield from her own past, and she takes great pleasure in escaping in him.

* * *

When she accepted her colony, she left Spinel behind. Thousands of years later, she tends the garden surrounding her fountain and wonders where Spinel is now. Did she ever look for Pink Diamond? Did she ever find that Pink was shattered? Did she accept that answer, was she given another role on Homeworld?

Without Pink Diamond, Spinel had no purpose. Had White shattered her?

Rose considers the Garden. She considers making the trek to the desert alone, reactivating Pink Diamond’s ship, and returning to the Garden. Finding Spinel, if any pieces of her remain, and bringing her back to Earth.

But it was quite possible that the other Diamonds would be notified if the ship was used again. She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk bringing the Diamonds’ attention back to Earth.

After all, after the Corruption, they had abandoned the place. Even with gems in such a maimed state, the planet itself was safer than it had ever been. She couldn’t risk all the life on Earth for just one gem.

Just another mistake she’d made, never rectified. Just another crime, never judged. Just another fear, never put to rest.

* * *

Bismuth proposes the Breaking Point with a gleam in her eye.

Rose doesn’t turn her down out of any sense of justice, out of any sense of morality. In all honesty, Bismuth brings up an argument that shouldn’t be ignored. In war, when the enemy is willing to shatter you, you cannot simply poof and bubble. It’s a time consuming, delicate way to eliminate them, and Homeworld has greater numbers, heavier artillery, and too many resources.

But Rose can’t allow Bismuth to shatter her. Even if Bismuth has no idea that she’s presenting this idea to her greatest enemy.

When Bismuth insists, when she points out the strategic benefits, Rose knows she’s right, and she knows she has no real argument against her.

“I’m sorry,” Rose says with finality, “but it isn’t right.”

_ “Isn’t right?!”  _ Bismuth’s temper is flaring, spiking past just irritation and incomprehension. “What does that  _ mean?  _ This is a  _ war,  _ Rose! We don’t have the luxury of  _ moralizing  _ our actions! We need to prioritize  _ our soldiers. Your soldiers!” _

“Calm yourself.”

Bismuth’s fuse does not extinguish. She threatens her, says she’ll go to the others about this. And Rose cannot justify herself to the others, who will no doubt see that Bismuth’s weapon is exactly what they need. And if they question her, they’ll dig, and they’ll expose a truth Rose cannot possibly hope to explain. It  _ terrifies  _ her.

So Rose extinguishes Bismuth’s fuse for her, and pretends — for her own sake — that it never happened.

* * *

Pearl, broken beyond repair. Spinel, abandoned. Bismuth, bubbled and hidden. Pearl, enslaved and silenced. Lion, dead. All of the Rose Quartzes, bubbled and falsely judged. Hundreds and hundreds of Gems, corrupted. Amethyst, isolated. The Earth, permanently scarred.

At some point, all of her mistakes add up to a terrifying sum. 

Humans are fascinating in that they are meant to change. Gems… Gems cannot. Their programming is irreversible and resolute.

Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond, and Pink Diamond is a monster. 

* * *

After a particularly trying tour of the Prime Kindergarten, Rose asks Greg pointed questions about human reproduction. And, though red-faced and flustered, he explains it to her. He takes her to the Budwick Library, where they go through health textbooks and detailed diagrams, and Rose realizes something extraordinary.

“Do you think we could do that?” she asks, as the book shuts.

“Huh?” Greg blinks at her, confusion writ across his face. “You mean — have a baby together?”

“Do you think we could create life together, you and I?”

Rose thinks of the Kindergartens. She thinks of how much life she recklessly destroyed in order to create gems who only worked to destroy even more of it. But humans… Humans were designed to preserve life, gloriously, nothing being sacrificed for their survival except time and energy. 

Greg’s eyes are on her, thoughtful and sensitive as always. “I… this is probably a weird question, but uh.” He blushes. “Do you even… do you even have that kind of… equipment?”

“I could shapeshift it,” she murmurs, enraptured. “I could give myself ovaries and eggs and a vagina and a cl—”

“I-I guess you could!” Greg squeaks out. She giggles; she can’t possibly begin to fathom why he’s so embarrassed about this when it’s such a  _ gift.  _ “I… could you… could you hold all of that? For months?”

“Sure.”

Most gems couldn’t, but she’d had plenty of practice shapeshifting. And on top of that, she  _ was  _ one of the most powerful gems in existence, though she would never tell Greg that. Not unless he asked.

“But I thought…” Greg runs a hand through the gorgeous mane of his hair. “I thought gems couldn’t… reproduce like that.”

“We can’t.”

He starts, turning quickly to stare at her in horror, all the adorable awkwardness and embarrassment vanishing. She understands, and she wants it anyway.

“You mean…”

“I don’t think I would ever be able to give birth in the way that humans can,” Rose admits as she stares at the cover of the textbook. She places her hand on the cover, caressing the image of the pregnant human. “Gems aren’t designed for it. But if I could give up my form to create another life…”

To allow a new life to form and to erase an irredeemable one in the same breath.

“I — Rose.” There’s something odd in his voice. “I don’t know. I… You’ve lived for  _ eons.  _ You would seriously give all that up? You wouldn’t — you would  _ die  _ for this?”

“Yes.”

The answer is easy. The loose ends that are left in her life aren’t within her reach. What better bow to tie on her existence than to make up for her mistakes? To create a being that not only is capable of change, but is designed to?

“I…” Greg’s voice shifts. He sets his hand over the one she’s placed on the book. “...Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

“Of course.”

* * *

When the test is positive, things change drastically.

Firstly, Garnet forbids Rose from accompanying them on any missions. 

“My future vision is useless here,” Garnet explains as her gaze, though obscured behind her visor, lands on her still flat stomach. “And… from what you and Greg have explained to me about human pregnancies, it seems a fragile thing. Let’s not test fate.”

“I can take care of myself,” Rose insists. “I am not a human.”

“I know.” Garnet shrugs, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Heed it anyway.”

So even though Rose rolls her eyes and huffs and pouts, she does as Garnet asks. After all, Garnet has never steered her wrong before, and Rose doesn’t want a reason to fear for her child’s life before it’s even begun.

Not that she’ll be around to fear for it when it has.

Secondly, Amethyst starts avoiding her. It isn’t what Rose expected, but she isn’t surprised. Amethyst has never adapted very well to loss.

Thirdly, Pearl shatters.

Not literally, of course. But Pearl becomes fractured, pieces of her former self.

“I hadn’t realized it was actually possible,” Pearl whispers in horror.

The two of them stand on the cliff above the temple, watching the waves. Below them, Greg and Amethyst are jamming, and Amethyst hits the drums with more voracity than usual.

“Isn’t that the wonderful thing about humanity?” Rose replies, awe and love coloring her voice. “Nothing is predictable. It’s always changing. If Greg had been anyone else, I don’t think I could have done this.”

Pearl frowns. Tears are in her eyes, but she does not shed them. Rose wishes she would.

“You know, Rose, that I have followed you through the furthest reaches of space, and I would follow you to the very end.”

Pearl’s fists clench.

“But I don’t believe I can follow you in this. Rose, you… you will be  _ gone.  _ Dead, in the human sense. You’ll be  _ shattered.” _

“Shattering means I would be in pieces for the rest of my existence,” she corrects, calm, quiet, patient. “This is different. I would cease to be, and instead, a new life will sprout in my place. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Of course it  _ isn’t!”  _ Pearl snaps, raising her voice at Rose for the first time in years. “You can’t keep using that word! You can’t — you can’t just  _ abandon  _ us like this!”

“We have nine months until the child is born. I won’t be leaving until then.”

Nine months is but a blink to the two of them, and Pearl’s hurt, defeated expression shows just what she thinks of that.

“In these nine months, I need you to come to terms with this decision I’ve made. I don’t need you to understand it, just accept it. And, my Pearl…”

Rose wraps both of her hands around one of Pearl’s, and her dearest friend freezes.

“I need you to promise me that you will not abandon my child as I am abandoning you.”

Pearl begins to shake as the tears, finally, slip from her cheeks. “Rose… Rose, this  _ isn’t fair.  _ You know this isn’t.”

“I know.”

Neither of them move. Rose waits as Pearl, trembling, terrified, wrestles with the ugly jealousy and pure adoration inside of her. The sun has set and the city quieted by the time Pearl finally meets her eyes again.

“... I promise.”

It is the cruelest thing Rose has ever asked of her.

* * *

Rose doesn’t technically need to eat, but after discussing it with Greg and Vidalia, it seems that energy is a thing babies need.

“All of my energy comes from my gem,” she tells them. “Surely the baby will simply take energy from there as well.”

“I dunno,” Vidalia mutters, eyes heavy with makeup as she looks to her own son. Rose remembers baby Sour Cream fondly, though he has grown exponentially since their adventure. “The babe doesn’t have your gem yet. Maybe you should be eating.”

“They’re part human too, after all,” Greg murmurs.

Rose doesn’t think it’s necessary, even still. But the idea of her eating, and that energy going to the life forming within her, seems to comfort Greg, so she agrees, however reluctantly.

And then she discovered that food seemed to directly correlate to the horrendous “morning sickness” that she’d heard so, so much about. They didn’t have a restroom within the temple, which meant a lot of unpleasant mornings were spent by the seaside.

It even interrupts peaceful sleep spent at Greg’s side in his cozy little van. It drives her absolutely crazy, and Greg frets, stumbling after her as she rushes to the ocean waves. Sometimes she actually pukes, sometimes she doesn’t, and she hates its lack of predictability.

“Garnet,” Rose whispers one morning as she collapses, somehow exhausted, onto the temple’s warp pad. “Can’t you just use your future vision to tell me when I’ll puke?”

Garnet chuckles. “Sorry.” She isn’t sorry. “I’ve told you before. You’re already an anomaly, hard to pin down with foresight. Throwing human pregnancy into the mix is… well. You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Rose groans. Garnet’s smile stays for only a moment more, before she sits next to her.

“Rose. You know that I will follow you, unerringly.”

“Of course.” Rose’s eyes close, though she knows Garnet’s remain open.

“I know that Pearl and Amethyst are struggling with the choice you’ve made, the choice you’re  _ making,  _ in their own ways. But I just can’t understand it.”

Rose gestures, without looking, toward everything. “You know how I feel about humans, don’t you? How could I possibly resist the decision to create one?”

“You’ve resisted before. None of the humans you’ve been with have spawned this desire in you. Except for this one.”

Garnet is clever and wise, and it isn’t just Sapphire that makes her that way. Though Sapphire has the gift of foresight and level-headedness, Ruby has always been the less naive of the two.

Still, Rose doubts she can ever properly explain this decision to any of them. Maybe Pearl could come the closest to true understanding, if she ever thought to put her (understandable, justified) emotions to the side for a moment.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” Rose says, opening her eyes and staring upwards. Stars are still visible, though the sun has already begun to warm the night sky. “Perhaps even too many mistakes. But this decision… doing  _ this,  _ with  _ Greg.  _ This isn’t one of them.”

They say nothing for a while. No doubt Garnet is waiting for Rose to say something clarifying and sensical. The fusion watches her expression while Rose watches the sky. The stars vanish, midnight blue becoming purples and pinks and reds and oranges, and when the sun is finally high enough for the sky to be its typical, baby blue self, Garnet sighs.

“I’ll never understand it,” she says at last. “But at the same time… I do.”

Rose is relieved, even though she  _ almost  _ wishes Garnet had taken that bait.  _ ‘Elaborate, Rose. You said ‘too many mistakes.’ Enumerate them.’  _ But Garnet is too trusting, and Rose is too afraid, and so she lets the mystery die.

* * *

Whenever Rose happens to be in the same room as Amethyst, Amethyst immediately has something more important to do. Rose thought she’d be fine with it, but after a few months, it has become something that hurts.

She misses the starry-eyed little gem who would follow her around, hanging onto every word and imitating every action. Of course, that desire is too close to something she doesn’t want to be, but she cannot help her programming, faulty as it is.

She is over the morning sickness by now, and her pregnancy is beginning to show. Rose can’t help but be awestruck by it, because her body seems to be shapeshifting without her consciously willing it. Is this  _ growth? _

Pearl, bless her gem, is making an effort. Rose sees it, appreciates it; she sees the way Pearl flinches at the sight of her, at the reminder that Rose will be vanishing from her life, and appreciates that Pearl looks anyway. Garnet looks upon her and sees an even larger blind spot than usual, and accepts it, prepares for the worst case scenario as she knows she may not be able to avoid it.

But Amethyst? Amethyst refuses.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Rose confesses to Pearl and Garnet one night. “I can’t. I can’t spend these last few months without her.”

And it may be selfish, but Rose believes Amethyst will regret it if this continues on; if Amethyst doesn’t speak a single word to her until she’s giving birth. By then, it will be too late.

And she cannot allow another mistake.

Garnet decides to speak to Amethyst first. She says that will go over better than Rose trying to corner her, and Rose agrees. So, though she doesn’t hear the conversation, when Garnet brings Amethyst outside of her room, Rose feels fear strike her heart.

Amethyst looks… disgruntled, like she’s just been scolded. Her arms are crossed as she comes to Rose and Pearl.

“Pearl,” Garnet calls. “Let’s give them a moment.”

Pearl looks like she might roll her eyes, but she does as Garnet heeds, and a moment later the two of them have vanished into the warp pad. Now it is just Rose Quartz, alone with an Amethyst whose entire existence is built upon Rose’s mistakes.

“Amethyst,” Rose begins, quiet and gentle. She won’t startle this little one. “Let’s talk about this. You can’t keep avoiding me forever.”

_ “Yeah  _ I can,” Amethyst snaps, shoulders tensing. “Just watch me. What will it matter when you’re gone, huh? If that’s what you want so bad?”

Rose blinks. “Uh… wait, that isn’t what I want. I’m going to have a child, remember? Just like humans do all the time.”

“Yeah, but humans don’t  _ die  _ when they do! Well — well,  _ most  _ of them don’t! But you found out you’d like,  _ have  _ to die, and you were just like, ‘all right, sure, sign me up!’”

“Am—”

“I just don’t  _ get it!”  _ Amethyst all but shouts, loud enough that she may have even been heard in Beach City. “You can’t just  _ run away _ when you want to! But you’re gonna do it anyway! You’re running away and never coming back, and you don’t even  _ care  _ that everyone wants you to stay!”

“Is that not what you’re doing?” Rose challenges, and Amethyst’s eyes meet hers for the first time; wide, shocked, tearful. “Running away?”

“I…!” 

“Maybe I am,” Rose admits. Amethyst blinks, frozen. “Maybe I am running away. But maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m hitting two birds with one stone: I’m hiding from my mistakes, but also, I’m creating new life from  _ nothing.  _ It’s… it’s almost like I’m  _ human.” _

Almost.

Amethyst sniffs before she plops down onto the ground next to her. They both stare out at the sea for a second, until Amethyst turns and places her hand on Rose’s growing belly.

“There’s someone in there, huh,” Amethyst says, not quite asking. Rose smiles and nods anyway.

“I… I just dunno what we’re all gonna do with you, Rose.” The little one leans against Rose, sighing as she drops her hand from her belly. “I felt like, if I didn’t acknowledge it, I could pretend it wasn’t happening. And… and you’re just getting  _ more  _ pregnant.”

“Maybe I should have talked to all of you more seriously about it,” Rose murmurs.

“I think I’d still be super mad,” Amethyst snorts. “But like… I dunno how humans work, but I promise, we’ll be super helpful to the baby. It’s gonna be like I was, right? With no memories and no idea what its purpose is?”

“Yeah.” It’s a melodic sigh, celebratory.

“Sweet.”

Isn’t it?

* * *

The very first time she feels the babe kick her from within, everything — not just in her pregnancy, not just the morning sickness and the craving human food and the aching back and feet, but in the entirety of her existence —  _ everything  _ has been worth it, for this one moment.

“Greg,” she whispers, stars in her eyes.

Greg lifts his head from the book he’s got in his hand. “Hmm?”

“Greg, come here —  _ oh!” _

He sits upright, stretching. The day has been a lazy one, and as enjoyable as it’s been, he’s moving  _ too slow.  _ “You’re going to miss it!” she insists, grabbing his hand and yanking it over.

“Whoa!”

She presses it to where the movement just was, waiting, on the edge of her seat, hopeful. Greg seems to stop breathing, eyes widening, as they both oggle her belly.

And then—

“There,” Rose whispers.

_ Life. _

“Oh my god.” Greg’s eyes water. He laughs, slow and surprised, and then it evolves, changing into something ecstatic and joyous. Rose cannot help but join him, overtaken by emotion in a way she has never been before.

Then Greg begins to sob, and his arms wrap around her, holding her close.

As she embraces him in her warmth, she wonders if humans have been in her shoes before; if they have made loved ones grieve for them before they’ve passed, knowing they’ll be bringing new life with their passing.

A part of her aches. A part of her fears.

“They’re in there,” she murmurs, hoping to comfort him. “Kickin’ around. Probably gets that from you.”

Greg chuckles, though it’s tinged with tears. “Yeah,  _ right,  _ miss ‘rebel leader.’ They’re gonna get  _ all  _ of their feistiness from you, and you know it.”

She can’t help the smile. “Yes. I do.”

* * *

By the time they are recording the tapes — the only thing their child will ever have of her — Rose can’t help but think, for once without any fear at all, as she stares into the camera and speaks to someone she will never know:

Rose Quartz has never loved anyone more than she has loved Steven Universe.


End file.
